One Hit Kill
by SirDeathShriek
Summary: "Jaune, do you... know what Aura is?" In truth, Jaune didn't have a clue. But when Pyrrha unlocked his Aura for the very first time, he felt invincible, like he could destroy anyone with just a single blow. The tale of a Jaune Arc from another universe, shortly after discovering his incredible Semblance, and the effects of this terrifying new power on Remnant.


Another universe:

"Jaune... do you... know what Aura is?"

Jaune started to open his mouth. A fancy food imported from Vacuo? Maybe some type of car?

He lifted his head and made eye contact with her. "Of course I know what aura is," the words fumbled out of his mouth. "Do _you_ know what Aura is?"

His new partner, the same girl who, not hours ago, turned out to be the mascot of his favorite cereal, just _stared_ at him. "_Aura_ is the _manifestation_ of our _souls_. It bears our burdens and shields our hearts. With practice, Aura can become our greatest weapon. Everyone has it, _even_ animals."

She followed his gaze as she circled around him, probably enjoying the sounds of his charade crumbling with her every step.

"Ah, uh, right. So uh, what about monsters?"

"No." She paused, eyeballing him. "The monsters we fight, manifestations of Grimm, _lack_ a soul."

He scratched the back of his neck. "Right and... that's why we fight them."

She shook her head. "It's not about _why_. It's about _knowing_. Understanding both light _and_ dark helps us manifest our Aura. _Everyone_ has some of both. Our weapons, our tools," she explained, gesturing at both the shield strapped to her arm and the spear on her waist, "all conduits for Aura. You project both yourself _and_ your soul when fighting."

She stepped closer, putting her leather-gloved hand on his shoulder.

"Now, close your eyes and concentrate."

Easier said than done when a hot girl was inches away, hand on his shoulder. Of course, only now did he notice she was a fraction of an inch shorter than him, that the yellow mesh under her pointed breast plate left little to the imagination. Putting even that aside, sure, they were supposed to be partners, but what on remnant was she going to d-

His inner voice slapped him across the cheek. A girl had just asked him to close his eyes while the two of them were all alone; alone in the middle of a forest teeming with monsters, but _alone for the moment_, nonetheless.

"Um, okay," he said, closing his eyes and shoving down the pants-tightening thoughts with a shrug. She didn't seem like a mean person. After all, she'd saved his life barely a minute after the test started. He wondered if she knew... but remained still, feeling the nylon press against his skin as she cupped his cheek in her hand. He straightened as the warmth trickled down his spine, swelling through his muscles.

Pressure knotted in his chest. His eyes screwed shut, and something hummed through his ears. The pressure surged through the rest of his body, and vanished. He cracked his left eye open. A white glow shimmered down his arms, pristine and airy and abnormal. He felt Pyrrha let go of his face. She slouched, hands on her knees. Pyrrha, the three-time regional champion, panting in front of him like she'd just finished a cross-region sprint.

All of that, and _she_ was the one sweating and out of breath.

Her vision snapped up when she declined his offered hand. "It's alright. I used my Aura to unlock yours. The energy that protects you now is your own," she said, grin tugging the corner of her mouth. "_You_ have a lot of it."

Jaune took a good look at his hands, curling each finger, feeling it out. Every finger felt new, replaced by something he knew to be quite lethal, a wall between himself and the very air. Was this how all of the other Huntsmen felt, _all the time_?

The glow withered, burrowing into his skin. His expression clouded a bit. But the disappointment slipped away.

He could call upon that power again.

**One-Hit Kill**

::

The inside of the penitentiary wasn't any prettier than the outside. Every wall plastered with weary grays and confining browns, and dry splashes of blue below them, a lifeless ocean in every direction. Expressionism used for torture.

Ozpin approached the receptionist's desk. The young officer's head jerked, spitting his small sip of coffee back into the cup.

Vale's penitentiaries didn't have a good track record for successful rehabilitation. Most youths who wound up here with that misguided sense of invincibility stayed until they were transferred to stronger facilities, deemed monsters by the general public, condemned by their counselors. In between running a school, Ozpin liked to scout potential talent for the huntsman and huntress field himself. He'd made an appointment today with 1191984.

The young officer nodded and reached over a console on his desk. A few tapping noises later and a metal door unlocked, and Ozpin thanked the guard who, the moment Ozpin turned his head, ran his eyes over the list of appointments again. Vale's latest child killer, receiving a visit from a professional Huntsman?

Blue-collared and black-capped, none of the guards looked happy to be here. An office behind the receptionist area filled with them, typing, calling, filing. A few caught a glimpse of him as he headed for the elevator, their eyes widening a bit, before returning to their work. The elevator led to the lower floors, each floor graded by the level of criminal insanity. He stepped inside, and pressed a button for the solitary confinement wing.

The doors opened to a monochromatic hallway, painted a subdued, orderly white. He followed the door numbers, the clacks of a cane bouncing from wall to wall as he traveled to 1191984. A thin crease exposed the door's profile, and he held up his security clearance. Machines invisible to the naked eye scanned his aura, and the locks on the door clicked. The door slid open.

The boy on the other side of that sliding, mechanical door... did not resemble much of a boy at all.

"Jaune Arc," he began after stepping inside, the door sliding shut behind him. The bald head shifted, blue eyes finding him instantly. "Good. I can sleep well knowing that the physical fitness program of this facility is doing its job." Glancing around the medium-sized room and not spotting a chair, he leaned against the door and rested with his cane. There was a comic book on the bed to the left of the boy that read 'CHUNK MAN Volume Two' on the cover. Mister Arc remained seated on the floor, another comic book in his hands that read 'Volume Three'. "Do you know who I am?"

The teenager squinted in one eye, and replied, "I think you're... the headmaster of one of the Huntsman academies. James Ironwood, right?"

Ozpin held back a snicker. "No, but the general is a good friend of mine."

"Oh ... Then you're Professor Ozpin," corrected Jaune.

He nodded. "Yes. I've been informed that you have a unique talent, Mister Arc. But the manner in which you've displayed that talent is, suffice to say, frowned upon in modern society."

The boy's eyes slanted down, confessing guilt. Every plank of muscle on his upper body stiffened, lines and cords appearing in places a regular teenager would never be expected to have them.

"The future isn't looking very bright for you, Mister Arc. Some see a child who needs to be locked away. I, however, see a boy with an incredible ability that manifested at the wrong time."

Blue eyes gazed at him, fanned with curiosity.

"As headmaster of Beacon Academy, I am offering you a one-time opportunity to attend my school." The professor straightened his glasses. "Beacon has taken strides to provide an equal learning environment for both human and faunus. It is my belief that with the proper education, your talent can be utilized for the protection of mankind."

After a few seconds, Jaune shook his head. "A school? Me, with other students?" Ozpin nodded. "No way, no thank you, I mean. Professor, if you know anything about my Semblance, then you know that's a bad idea."

Ozpin pulled his cane to the side and straightened his glasses. "Jaune, do you see my hand here?"

"Yeah," Jaune answered, tilting his head.

"It's not uncommon to hear of Huntsman and Huntresses losing limbs and appendages over the course of their careers, being forced to adopt prosthetics to make up for what they've lost. I have had this exact same hand for my entire life, my entire career as a teacher and Huntsman. With it, I've held numerous coffee cups, and shattered several. This hand of mine glows with an awesome power..." He paused to stare at the hand-in-question before looking at Jaune again. "I'm going to hold my palm out, and I want you to hit me as hard as you can."

That startled the boy.

"What are you ... you can't be serious."

"I am."

Jaune rose from the floor. "You can't be! Do you have _any_ idea why I'm in here?"

"I do."

"Then you know how crazy what you just asked is?"

Ozpin gestured for him to calm down. "I assure you Jaune, I will be fine."

Jaune stared at the floor, crestfallen. His jaw tensed, his fingers curled and clenched, and Ozpin started to wonder if there was a section of the boy's psychological profile he'd missed.

"Why?" Jaune asked, gaze back on Ozpin.

Ozpin smiled. "To convince you that this is your _only_ ticket Jaune. You can do what I ask, here and now, and attend Beacon to become a Huntsman. Or you can stay here from now until they see fit to put you with the other inmates. It's your choice. Consider this a preliminary to your first actual exam."

Consider this a preliminary to your first exam. You have a choice: either do this, here and now, or stay here in this place, from now on. It is your choice, of course."

He slowly lowered his palm, awaiting a response. Jaune shrugged, and raised his right fist.

"Before I do this, I just want to say I'm sorry."

"Don't be," the Headmaster replied. "Attack me whenever you wish."

:: ::

Airships were aptly named.

For all of his admittedly short life, Jaune knew terror in three, pronounced instances. Giving Alice Sitchri that card on Valentine's Day. That nerve-racking half hour at the end of his final year at Wave, taking the placement test that would decide whether he got into Beacon... the accident, three months ago.

Being up here though, blended the awful feelings together, like a belly full of razors.

Beacon Academy: the prestigious institute for those wanting to hunt monsters, and run by that freaky, invulnerable man, if he even fit the term. The school rose over a humongous cliff, three or more cascades running down from it.

Looking at the school, it reminded him of his old bedtime stories, the romanticized children's stories his parents fed to him about how Vale and Mistral were founded; particularly the castles from long ago. Bold towers, spires intricately linked, roofs and walls made out of tough-looking stone; gardens interposed between them, beautifying. Beacon was a hodgepodge of those kinds of castles.

When he was older, he'd taken a peek at some of the books in the library about what actually happened to the kingdoms after they were founded. Civil rights protests, crime, mischief, political backstabbings, and not only that, but some of the kingdoms even waged war with each other. Knocking down walls with their cannons, storming the streets with their armies; a far cry from the peaceful handshaking and good-natured discussions his parents described.

But Beacon's appearance denied all of that, as if the fairy tale were true, and reality the deception.

They were over a huge, gray landing pad, and Beacon's central tower fell out of view, hidden behind an encompassing, ring-like shape, which itself was supported by a series of white pillars that he guessed were arches. A fairy tale of metal work and holograms, and all of it looked expensive. Jaune tucked his hands into his pockets, but they swung back up to cover his mouth when the ship jostled in landing, his stomach curling into a tightly wound ball of rubber.

Someone just had to tap on his shoulder. "Hey, are you alright? You don't loo-"

A blonde, a pretty one too, as much as he could tell before his eyes screwed shut and his head craned forward. The bile in his throat boiled, and surged. He stumbled backward. When he opened his eyes, a chunky, lime-colored pool formed above the girl's cleavage. Her hands shook before him, her fingers crooked and trembling, her face caught in abject horror, visibly trying not to scream.

Heads turned when she finally did.

"I'm sor... I'm so sorr..." he gagged, holding his hand out pointlessly. It fell on deaf ears. Pawing at her chest frantically, she whipped around and bolted.

One Hit Kill.

:: ::

She'd enjoyed the trip while it lasted. What were the odds that she'd be going to school in the same year as her older sister, the same older sister running away from her at breakneck speed?

"Yang, wait!" she called.

"Eww eww eww eww eww!"

And like that, her sister vanished through a crowd of students, sprinting across the avenue that led new arrivals into Beacon. Leaving Ruby alone, panting from stress while she descended from the airship's walkway. She thought about using her Semblance, but stuffed the thought away when she noticed a few wandering eyes.

Everyone here carried different weapons, and appeared to be showing them off. Collapsible staffs, flaming swords, track shoes with little gun barrels on the front. It would've been awesome, if her sister hadn't just run off with puke on her shirt. A small part of her wanted to run over and hug them, force their parents to consider legally adopting her. But her goggling eyes found a strange sight among the crowds. A bald boy, head clean as a whistle, maybe even waxed. He hobbled down the airship's ramp, covering his mouth with both of his hands.

Right before Yang screamed, she'd said that boy looked like he was going to be sick and decided to go and help him.

Her eyes thinned, and Ruby stomped over to the bald person.

"_You_!"

Not her greatest opening line. Blue eyes swiveled at her, and now that she wasn't glaring at the back of his head, she was certain he wasn't just wearing a flesh-colored cap or something. If it ran in his family, it must have set records.

The boy, if he was actually that young, briefly uncovered his mouth. "Um, me?"

"You're the guy who puked on my sister!"

Regret and memory flashed across his face.

"Your... sister?"

"Yea, yeah, that was my sister you... you... are you going to be okay?" she asked, wincing at the fluids still dripping from the boy's hand.

"Me? Oh, yeah, I'm just... I get air sick." A sickly grin worked itself together. "Heh, it's actually kinda funny. This is the only thing my Semblance doesn't compensate for."

Mild curiosity put aside, Ruby asked, "A-anyway, why did you do that?"

"I-it was an accident. Really! I tried to say I was sorry but she ran off before I could." The look on his face would have made newborn puppies weep. "I'm really, really sorry."

"It's..." she said with a long pause, "...okay."

Was it?

"Yang already went to find a place to clean off so, I guess she'll be alright. I should go and find her." She started past him, but stopped. "Are you sure you're going to be alright?"

"Oh I'll be fine, I'll-hrgk!" Bald boy hunched over, clutching his throat and mouth. She took a step back at first then moved, lifting his arm over her neck to carry him by the shoulder. "Grgk... thank you," he groaned.

They padded forward; Ruby keeping her head angled a safe distance from Vomit Boy. "Come on Vomit Boy, just walk it off."

"May... maybe you should go, I'll find a nurse's office, or something."

"Just keep that hand over your mouth and don't look right at me if you're about to hurl. Besides, you need to apologize to my sister."

Plucking their feet with every joined step, they hurried along the gray-tiled avenue, past maple-leaved trees and holographic lamp posts. More than once someone asked if Bald Boy was okay and if they needed a nurse, and they'd politely decline, trotting still.

With her head bearing the length of his arm, a bit of brown sleeve waded around her neck. His hooded jacket and jeans seemed... plain, compared to the other students. Every one she'd seen was pretty unique, wearing outfits and ensembles. She certainly didn't feel awkward about wearing her hood now, if solely because of how much the person slung over her shoulder stood out compared to everyone else.

"What's your name?"

Bald Boy gently turned his head. "Jau-"

Sensing danger, she elbowed him in the side.

"Other way!"

"Sorry. The name's Ja, Jaune Arc."

"Nice to meet you Jaune. I'm Ruby," she said, managing a grin.

"Ah. Ruby. That's a..."

"That's... what?" She raised an eyebrow.

"It's nothing, I mean, no, not _nothing_." Ruby gazed ahead, the avenue they were walking on coming to an end. To her right, two rows of light poles followed another gray-tiled path, and most of the other new arrivals seemed to be headed there. "It's just, you're that girl from the news, the girl who got mixed up in that Dust robbery."

Her cheeks warmed. "Oh, you uh, you heard about that? It..."

"It sounds amazing!" Jaune took his arm away, relieving her. "How old are you anyway? I mean, we see huntresses on the news everyday stopping petty crooks and stuff, but here you are, first day at Beacon, not even licensed, and you helped bag a bunch of bad guys!"

"It was an accident really." She scratched the back of her head. "I just happened to be in the back of the store when they showed up, heh."

Now they walked side by side, Jaune, apparently, well enough to walk on his own two feet. He didn't seem to have anything more to add, and she already missed his praise. Being praised for... admittedly, _kicking butt_, filled her with an off excitement.

Their steps more in tune now, Ruby forged a weak smile and scanned the ground for an offensive rock or an ugly bug, and when nothing came, she saw the statue in front of the academy's main building: a statue of a cloaked man and woman who were cloaked, both carrying swords and shields, facing off against a rather appropriate likeness of a Beowolf.

The way their cloaks fluttered, Ruby noticed another odd thing about her new companion. Nowhere on his person, not on the hoody, not on his collar, not attached to his jeans or anywhere else she glimpsed, was there a crazy awesome sword or a gun. That was certainly a worthwhile topic to discuss.

"You used one of those scythe rifle things right?"

"Huh?" she blurted out, blindsided.

"I remember reading that the girl who fought Torchwick's men was a... scythe wielder?"

"Oh. That's right but, did the papers actually say that?"

"Yeah, yeah ... that's what the paper said." His eyes roamed ahead to where the statue was. "You think I could see it?"

Her eyes widened. "You want to see Crescent Rose?"

"If that's," he said, voice petering, "okay with you."

"No, I don't mind, it's fine really. Stand back' a second." More than fine actually; any opportunity to show off her baby was exceptional. Now they could talk about weapons and ammunition cartridges. Maybe he knew some tricks to deal with recoil that she didn't. Ooh! Maybe he'd read the latest issue of WEAPON!

Ruby reached over her back and pulled out her darling, her sixty-five kilogram, customizable, Grimm-killing tool.. Crescent Rose whirred to life, branching until the blade of the scythe thudded against the ground. The thud wasn't very loud, and none of the crowds of students marshaled around the campus broke away to see what it was.

It didn't go without notice though.

Jaune's eyes lit up over her sweetheart. "Oh... my... god... that is so cool!"

"Yup," she declared, holding her baby against her shoulder. "It's also a customizable, high-impact sniper rifle."

"I... wow."

"That's an HCSS!"

A girl walked up to them, pulling sapphire strands of hair away from her face to examine the scythe. "Wow, I've never seen one up close! Where'd you buy it?"

"I made it," replied Ruby with a smile, jabbing her thumb at her chest, "_all_ me."

"Wow." The girl raised her hand in greeting. "Zaffre. Zaffre Glass."

"Ruby."

"Jaune. Jaune Arc. Oh but Ruby, you said I could see it for a second?"

"Sure." She handed the weapon over cautiously. "Just be careful with it, okay?" Careful seemed to be knocking on wood. Jaune agreed, and the moment she let go, the scythe stayed balanced in his grip. He must have been pretty strong.

"So Ruby," blue-haired girl asked, "you _actually_ made that?"

"I had some help from my uncle Qrow. He's my teacher, or, was, before I came here I mean."

"That's _so_ cool."

"So what do you guys have?" Ruby asked quickly. She turned around. "Jaune?"

His eyes went up and down her scythe, an act that gave her the teensiest bit of pride. "Me?" He tipped the scythe around, offering it back to her. "Oh I don't have a weapon. I'm more of a... martial artist."

They both gawked at him, and Zaffre asked, "Nothing at all?"

He gripped the scythe with both hands, balancing it on the ground. "I did bring my grandfather's sword and shield with me, but they're not quite as... fancy as this." He boosted the scythe up a bit to emphasize that. "They're more good luck charms than anything else."

"My sister's a hand-to-hand fighter too," said Ruby. "Don't you wear gloves, or gauntlets?"

"Mmmmnope."

"What," asked Zaffre. "You mean you rely on solely your Aura?"

"Sort of; my Semblance works best when I'm using my hands."

Ruby cocked her head to the side. "What's it do?"

A bulge shifted under Jaune's chin with a quiet gulp. "It's um... it's called One-Hit Kill. Anything I punch dies in the first blow."

Ruby and Zaffre stared and repeated the phrase together.

"Zaffre, we're heading inside!" someone called.

Zaffre spun and waved at a gang of students on the other side of the academy statue. "I'll catch up in a minute!" she called, looking back at Jaune. "I have to go meet up with my friends, but tell me about this Semblance of yours. How does it... I mean, it can't possibly-"

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said in a voice barely higher than a whisper. "Sorry but, who knows, we might be fighting each other in class one day. I don't want to lose to a classmate because I told her everything about me on the first day."

Zaffre gave him a scandalized look that melted away just as quickly. "Good point. Let's not ruin the competition." She sprinted away from them, waving back. "I'll see you guys during initiation, yeah?"

They waved goodbye, watching Zaffre and her friends disappear inside the building. They needed to head in next. But there was no sign of Yang, and Ruby had meant it when she said that she wanted Jaune to apologize to her sister.

Jaune gestured at the doorway. "We goin' inside?"

She crossed her arms and shrugged. "We have to find Yang first." Copying her, Jaune shrugged and waited with her, blank expressions on both of their faces. After a minute, she asked, "Hey what did you mean about your semblance, anyway? You said anything you punch _dies_ in the first hit?"

"That's the short of it." He'd said he didn't want to talk about it. "I uh... I don't have much control over it yet. Objects I strike tend to break on contact. It's a volatile ability. My counselor-"

"Gah! Why are you holding my weapon again?" She yelled, snatching Crescent Rose from him. But the panic left her quickly, and she chuckled. "Wait, what am I thinking, there's no way you could have a power like that."

"Sorry... come again?"

She snickered, gazing at a couple of other students who were showing off axes and specially-modified crossbows. "Come _on_ Jaune. Nobody can just _punch_ things and make them _explode_ or whatever-"

"Is that so?" he challenged her, taking a step to the side and raising his left fist, sunlight shining atop his head. "Well let's put our money where our mouths are. I bet that if I punched that sniper scythe you worked so hard on, it'd snap like a _tooth_-_pick_."

"Oh yeah?" she said, incensed.

"Yeah!"

Ruby's brow furrowed, and she stepped opposite Blondie Mcbalderson, facing him with Crescent Rose pointed in front of her. A tiny, tiny version of herself deep within her mind begged her to stop what she was doing. She ruthlessly squashed that tiny version of herself with a mallet. _Nobody_ compared her pride & joy with a toothpick and got away with it.

"Alright, Mister Tough Guy." Her eyes fixed on him. "We'll test that theory. Try not to hit the sharp ends. Wouldn't want to drag you across campus with a missing hand now, would I?"

Jaune growled as he took his fighting stance. The air was anything but still, even though the number of students lingering around in front of the building dwindled. Side conversations still flitted from every direction. Few seemed aware that two people were getting ready to attack one another.

And then Jaune inched closer. And again, and again, until he was right up to her, invading her personal space.

"Umm, Jaune, what are you doing?"

"You, uh, might want to brace yourself for this."

"What do you-"

His fist snapped in her direction.

Five curled-up fingers smacked into the scythe's blade, and the metal cried out, a noise that normally would have made her cringe, were her feet still on the ground.

Fortunately, Ruby was a very petite, fifteen-year old, and leaping around with the use of her weapon's tremendous recoil was ingrained in her fighting style. Jaune's punch launched her sideways to the left, but she twisted, twirling in midair while hooking her arms above her. She landed clumsily, but on her feet, scythe slid over her back as she tried to regain her balance.

She opened her eyes to discover that she was farther away from the statue than before, and was now at least a few meters away from Jaune. Eyes shifted at her.

But Ruby glanced at the pointed end of her weapon, which was no longer there. And then she stared at the pointed end of her weapon, _which was no longer there_. Cords stuck out from the half still lodged between her hands.

Crescent Rose was now a sharp, pointed stick; and that fact tore her apart inside. She searched frantically with her eyes for a sign, any piece of the scythe's upper half. Where had it gone? She wobbled, knees buckling out from under her.

Jaune shouted her name, apparently _concerned_. "Are you okay? Please tell me you aren't missing any limbs or-!"

Her eyes ballooned, looking at him: hate, anger, frustration. And then the balloon popped, gushing emotion instead of helium.

And so it was, that on her very first day at Beacon Academy, Ruby Rose broke down into tears.

One-Hit Kill.

(Elsewhere, a very frightened-looking student gripped the back of her head, seconds after a strange sickle sliced through her ponytail and lodged itself inside a tree.)


End file.
